


Practical Arrangements

by ApexOnHigh



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, M/M, Rentboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11054829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApexOnHigh/pseuds/ApexOnHigh
Summary: Nick has an overnight booking with one of his favorite clients.





	Practical Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreenPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenPhoenix/gifts).



Nick whistled to himself as he headed down the corridor, toward his client's apartment. One of his favorite regulars had booked him for an overnight, and he was looking forward to the evening and later hours ahead. He knew he'd be leaving in the morning with a good amount of cash in his pocket, and in the meantime he'd get to spend the night with a man who treated him well—someone whom he was quite happy to service however requested.

He only offered overnights to his better customers, and only once they'd been his clients for long enough that he knew it would be a comfortable situation for both of them. A guy in his line of work had to be careful—not merely for his own safety, but to maintain his reputation and ratings online. But Nick had been seeing this particular gentleman for almost six months now, usually a couple times a month. He knew what to expect.

Nick knocked on the apartment door, fussing with his jacket collar as he waited. He always dressed nice for this one, unless he got a request for anything different or more low-key. Every so often this client requested a little roleplay fun, and that was fine. He never requested anything so out-there or kinky that Nick had to charge extra for his services, if he'd agree to it at all. No, usually their "dates" involved a nice meal out, and maybe the theater or even the opera, before heading back here for more intimate business.

Some nights this client didn't even want that last bit of business. He'd be happy enough to have had the company of a handsome young gentleman for the evening, someone to talk to instead of spending a solitary night at home. That wasn't too unusual, Nick had discovered during his years in this trade. He'd also discovered that sometimes those nights, those clients, were more work than the ones who just wanted sex.

Sex was easy. At least it always had been for Nick. Listening to someone spill their guts out over all the failures in their life, how lonely and sad they were? That could be a lot more difficult.

But, that's why people paid him so well.

The apartment door opened and an older gentleman greeted him with an easy smile. His silver hair was striking in the muted light of the corridor, and he looked sharp as usual in his dark grey suit. "Hey, Nick. Good seeing you."

"Hi, John." They shared a quick hug—nothing too intimate, but a little longer than a quick, friendly greeting.

"Come in for a minute. I'm almost ready to go."

"Where are we off to tonight?" Nick asked, following him inside. The apartment was cluttered yet kept clean, somehow neat amidst the chaos if that were possible. It was a big space for a single guy in New York City, but John liked to collect things, and said he'd been here for almost fifteen years now.

"I've got tickets to a concert at the 92nd Street Y," he told Nick as he fussed with his cufflinks. "New work for guitar and string quartet. I heard a program about the artists this past week on NPR and thought it sounded interesting. At least, I hope that it won't bore you too much."

"No way. I'm always game for something new." Growing up, Nick had never had much exposure to culture or the arts outside of his community, certainly not the kind of high-brow stuff John was into. It was one of the perks of this trade to find a client who wanted more than sex but also a date for events and performances, things Nick never would have experienced otherwise.

He liked to focus on those positive aspects of his work. It was better than admitting he let men fuck him for a living, sometimes men who weren't anywhere near this pleasant to be around.

"I also made reservations for late dinner afterwards," John continued to tell him. "There's a place I've been meaning to try for ages near the Y." He had slipped a tie around his neck and worked on the knot. "Fresh pasta, striped bass to share for two..."

"I'm getting hungry already." Nick wondered if he'd showed up underdressed, not wearing a tie himself, and asked, "Do I need a tie?"

"No. But if you would like to wear one..." John disappeared into his bedroom for a moment, then came out with a subtly-pattered maroon silk one. "This would look nice on you."

"It's lovely." Nick could tell it was high quality, no doubt Italian. John had excellent and expensive taste in his wardrobe.

"And it looks better on you than it ever did on me," John said as he wrapped it around the younger man's neck, then began to tie it. "Keep it."

"Thank you." Nick caught a whiff of fresh cologne now that they stood close, familiar enough to ignite a spark of sexual excitement, a touch of longing.

He wasn't supposed to get attached to clients. He was supposed to remember this was strictly business. He could have fun, make the most of things, but his priority was to make sure that his customers had a good time and came away satisfied. It was never intended to mean more than that. Sometimes, though, that was a lot easier said than done. John was one of those who occasionally made it hard to remember that simple rule.

John finished the knot and, with a twinkle in his eyes, tugged itenough to pull Nick closer for a kiss. Gentle, almost sweet...though Nick had a feeling from the look in the other's dark eyes that there would be plenty of heat later tonight. When John released him, Nick asked, "What time does the performance start?"

"Eight. We have about an hour. And it should only take about a half-hour to get there by cab, this time of the evening, so..."

Nick grinned. "Would you like me to get you warmed up before we go?" he asked, sliding a playful hand over the other man's belt.

"I would never say no to that. But first..." John reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his wallet. He took out a clip of cash and placed it into Nick's free hand. "Business first, so we don't have to worry about such matters later."

"Always appreciated," Nick said, tucking the cash into his pants pocket. He knew it would all be there; John never cheated him. And then he dropped to his knees to get to work on that belt and those pants, making sure to treat them with care so they'd stay neat and clean for the evening ahead.

 

*

The music was fine, if a bit knotty and dense for Nick's full appreciation and understanding. He found his mind drifting, at times, so he simply enjoyed the way the sound flowed over and around them in the intimate concert hall.

In the dark, he felt John's hand reach for his own. A caring and tender touch; Nick had been with clients who tried to paw at him in public, one who'd even made him give a hand-job in a box at the Metropolitan Opera House.

But no, John was always a gentleman in public. A clear romantic too, which used to make Nick wonder. John was handsome, fit for a man of his age. Lots of younger gay men should be lining up to date a mature sugar-daddy like him—women, too, for he knew John said he was into both. He was a man with a respectable, steady job, albeit one that kept him on call all hours of the day and night and that wasn't always easy on relationships. Still, he wasn't the type Nick would think would need to pay for company. And yet he had told Nick about his multiple failed marriages and long dry spell since, and said, _"This seems easier, now, compared to trying to find love again. I never was particularly good at finding it in the past."_

As for Nick himself, well. Some clients asked him how he'd ended up becoming a male escort, a "rent boy"; others didn't seem to care. John had asked him, in the fading minutes of their first evening call while they shared a joint in bed and made small talk.

 _"Don't you get drug tested on your job?"_ Nick had asked, with some suspicion. John had told him the truth about his job right from the start, which had been a little surprising. But then again, clients didn't lie about _being_ cops so much as lied about _not_ being one, if it were an undercover sting.

 _"Please. An old fart like me? I haven't been tested once since I made sergeant and I'm basically on desk duty at this point. I forwent enjoying myself for enough years; now's time to make the most of this planet's earthly delights,"_ John had explained, then adding, _"Including a fine specimen such as yourself."_

Nick had snorted. _"I bet you say that to all the boys bring home."_

 _"Believe it or not, you're the first. Thought about it, tried_ **_not_ ** _to think about it for a long time, but...what can I say? I came across your profile and I liked what I saw."_

_"Well, I hope I met your expectations."_

_"Beyond. Can I ask...how did you find yourself in this line of work?"_

With a shrug, Nick had found himself talking, his tongue loosened by the weed. _"Thought I was gonna go into sports when I was a kid. Boxing. I was real good at that. Learned on the streets and then at the gym, started making a name for myself in local matches."_ Boxing had also been a way to defend himself against his own father's violence at home, to try to defend his mother and sister. _"But I injured my back in a bad fall, needed a bunch of surgery, and ended up with a lot of hospital bills and no future in the ring."_ And no family to fall back on, because once he'd left home he was out of that house forever. _"Regular jobs that pay enough are hard to come by, but one night at a bar I was drinking, wondering what I was going to do to not lose my apartment, pay the bills. Some guy offered me two hundred to go back to his place for sex. Compared to slaving away in a fast food joint, it seemed a better way to make the money I needed."_

And generally it was, although he'd had a few clients who had taken things farther than he'd been comfortable or prepared for. Others who tried to trick him or pay him extra into not playing it safe. But he was strong enough, tough enough still to say no if he had to. He'd sell his body but he wasn't going to ruin it with disease. All those years training to fight could serve him well against aggressive clients if need be, even if he could no longer cut it in the ring.

Someday he hoped he'd be in a place where he could give it up and get into another career—a _real_ one. For now, this was all right. Especially on nights like tonight when he could almost imagine this was a real relationship, not simply the illusion of one.

*

After music and dinner they were back at John's apartment, Nick's head swimming a little from the heavy red wine they'd enjoyed with their meal. He tasted it on John's lips when he kissed him, his mouth now hungry for more than expensive meals and liquor.

In John's bedroom, standing before him, Nick undressed for his lover. He could see that hunger in John's eyes grow with every garment he removed.

He undressed with care, and with skilled seduction. He paid special attention to the tie John had given him as he un-knotted it, feeling the silk glide against his collar. He held it out suggestively, in case John intended to tie him up with it—or have the same done in kind—but John shook his head no. "Too nice of a tie to ruin that way," he said, undoing his own shirt's buttons, then tossing it aside. He removed his undershirt next, revealing that slim but sinewed body. "Besides, tonight I'm not in the mood."

"What are you in the mood for?"

"Simplicity." John moved forward on the bed where he'd been seated to place his hands on Nick's sides. He pressed his mouth to Nick's stomach, bared through the open buttons of his shirt. Nick sighed and lowered a hand into that silver hair, caressing it as John kissed him, hands then working on undoing his belt. When Nick's pants and underwear were down, John slipped back and grinned, taking in the sight of Nick's erect member. "Lie down," he said. "My knees can't take the hard floor these days."

"Anything you want, lover."

Nick laid back and let John pleasure him with his hands, and then—after slipping on protection—his mouth. He was adept at it, sucking and swallowing deep; he could teach a lot of men such technique. Some clients only were into their own gratification, but John was one of those also keen to return the favor. His hands ran over Nick's thighs and stomach as his mouth worked, until Nick felt his balls tighten, orgasm imminent.

He came with a shudder and gasp, leaving John looking quite pleased by his response. John removed and tossed the condom in the trash before Nick went soft again, then slid up the sheets to claim Nick's mouth for more kisses, urgent and deep.

"I need you, now," he said, his voice rough with desire.

"Any way you want me. I'm yours," Nick replied, too sated and relaxed to say more. John shrugged himself out of his pants and underwear, then reached for and ripped open another condom wrapper. Nick licked his lips as he admired John's cock—long and lean, like the rest of his body. He knew it would feel great to get fucked by that cock; he wanted it. "Please..." he breathed, his need no act tonight.

And then John was on top of him, spreading and lifting his legs, massaging his opening with cool, slick fingers. The chill of the lube made Nick gasp and arch up. He didn't need much preparation, not when he hungered to be filled and fucked. John's eyes locked with his own and Nick pleaded for more, not just fingers inside him but that gorgeous, hard dick.

"You're so pretty when you beg," John teased.

" _Please_ , John...aa _ah_!" Fingers replaced by that hard cock, Nick gasped, the first thrust always a shock to the body. But then he relaxed again and welcomed John into him deeper, slowly, _so_ deep, _so_ good. He was still coming down from his own orgasm minutes before, but feeling John inside him brought on new waves of pleasure—a different kind, one of being filled and stretched. One where, with the right thrust, John hit that pleasure spot inside him and set off ripples of fresh delight.

Nick groaned and gasped, not having to fake his enjoyment of this. He let John push his legs up higher, cried out for more as John fucked him harder. He concentrated on the sight of that lean body, muscles flexing and tightening with every movement. Nick loved being fucked by a man who knew what he was doing and who looked so sexy and commanding while he was doing it.

And John was no two-minute fuck, either. Especially not after that earlier blowjob had released any pent-up need for quick release. He kept going, only ordering Nick onto his hands and knees at the end so he could pummel him hard, slamming balls-deep into Nick's ass. Nick knew he when he was close to the edge, gripping harder onto his thighs and Nick was almost seeing stars.

John came, holding deep inside Nick, only letting out a satisfied, deep hum as he did. He pulled out and allowed Nick to collapse onto the bed, feeling exhausted, more than a little raw, but _incredibly_ well fucked.

After disposing of his condom John lay back, inviting Nick to cuddle in close to him. It was nice; better than when a client rushed to get him out of bed as soon as he had come. Nick knew they'd probably rest and doze off for a time, until John woke him up in the middle of the night or early morning for another round.

However many times he wanted it until the alarm sounded at seven and their engagement was over.

"Want a smoke?" John offered.

"Actually...I'm okay right now," Nick said, suppressing a yawn. Between the wine and his orgasm he was feeling floaty enough at the moment.

"Yeah, me too." John stroked his hair with idle distraction for a few minutes, until Nick had almost drifted asleep. "You know, Nick, I'm considering retiring soon."

The words pulled the younger man out of his sleepy state. Propping himself up, he looked to John and asked, "Yeah? Why? I thought you enjoyed your job."

John sighed. In that moment he looked older than his sixty-odd years. "‘Enjoyed' is...not the word for it. It's been mostly satisfying, I'd say. In the past. These days, though...I don't know any more. I'm starting to feel like it's too much pain and sadness for an old man like me. Too few people who get any closure or justice for the things that have happened to them, or their loved ones...I'm becoming tired of it all. And feeling like more of a hypocrite by the day."

"A hypocrite?"

"Look at me—a sergeant investigating sex crimes by day, while paying a male escort for company and sex by night. If I was ever busted for it, I'd no doubt have to retire anyway. Might even lose my NYPD pension—in which case, I'd be out of money to pay for future play-dates."

"I can understand that."

"Besides, I have things I'd like to do before I get too old for them. Places to see, adventures to seek out for personal fulfillment...I may end up alone for the rest of my days but I'd rather not end up alone and full of regrets for the things I never got the chance to do."

 _You don't have to be alone,_ Nick ached to say, but he held it back. He wasn't supposed to care so much, to think about how it might be nice to spend the night here every night, cash in his pocket or not. "It sounds like you've been contemplating this for a while," he said instead.

"I have. There are a couple cases I'd like to clear off my desk if I can, first, and then...I'm going to see about putting in those papers. Before the end of the year. Maybe so I can take the winter months off somewhere warmer. Sicily, or Greece, sounds nice. I've always wanted to see the ruins there...the birthplace of philosophy, of so much of Western civilization. And Rome, Paris..."

"Sounds like a great plan to me."

"Mmm. You know it would be even more appealing if I had a travel companion with me. You ever do extended vacations or trips out of the country?"

Nick couldn't help but smile, couldn't hold that back as his heart skipped a beat for a moment. "I'm sure we could come to a suitable arrangement for that."

"Good." John kissed him again, and then went to turn off the lamp beside the bed. He pulled Nick close and Nick let himself, in the darkness, fall into that fantasy in his heart. That tomorrow he wouldn't have to go home and check his computer for the next night's booking, the next client, the next pocketful of cash that would hopefully see him through to the end of the month. Maybe, just maybe, when John retired...if he meant it...

"Good night, Nick," John said, and in those words Nick could almost hear an unspoken, "I love you."

Or maybe it was simply what he wanted to hear.

"Night, John."

Maybe it was what he wished to be able to say in return.

 


End file.
